


Ethereal

by seoafin



Series: nightlight [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DC Animated Universe, DC Cinematic Universe, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/M, i guess?, jason is the real mvp, like your version of dr . phil, when is reader never not emo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9578867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seoafin/pseuds/seoafin
Summary: Dick Grayson is very, very dangerous.And it scares you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> uh, I was wondering on how to further advance this series when this popped into my head. who knows how long it'll take for the next part to get posted. if you haven't noticed, i procrastinate.  
> i promise that the next part will have a lot more dick/reader interaction!! promise. i just can't help myself from writing jason/reader, i love platonic relationships way too much and jason/rea are just-!!  
> part 3 will probably be a little smutty so look out for that lol
> 
> **Edited: 5/15/17

Passionate kisses and shared nights.

That's all you've allowed yourself to take, you aren't ready for a change in dynamics. Dick deserves better and you know that one day, he'll realize that too. You'll go back into your self-imposed isolation, trying to atone for your sins and Dick will move on to someone else, becoming nothing more than a distant memory of what could've been.

Surprisingly, the thought makes your heart drop into your stomach.

Most of all you're afraid you'll become greedy. Because Dick makes you greedy. For more touches, attention, kisses. You're starved for affection and it scares you.

Dick Grayson _scares you._

He's barged in and turned the normalcy of your repetitive and monotonous life upside down, breaking through most of your shields in a mix of both endearing stubbornness and persistent determination. A never ending stream of gifts, an endless barrage of shameless compliments, heartfelt whispers in the night; and that despite your impassive face, feeling your insides heat and curl in that familiar and pleasant way that has your heart racing in both panic and the unknown emotion of happiness.

You wonder how you could have ever kept up with someone as ardent as Dick. He consumes you like wildfire, each shared night making you want more, more, and _more._ You've never been the type to indulge in such carnal, superficial pleasures, but with Dick, you can't help it. And despite yourself; you know with each passing day that you are giving him pieces of your heart -- one small broken shard at a time.

~~_It's not enough._ ~~

You don't want to leave. You wish you could stay. You _could_ leave. Just disappear like you had from so many other cities, gone before the sunrise, leaving others to wonder if you were nothing but an illusion, conjured from fading sunlight and the shadows of the night.

Even so, you know that deep down, that the only thing truly keeping you in Gotham is Dick, the anchor that keeps you rooted to the spot. It's unlike you, a wanderer who forms no attachments, and abides by nobody's rules: and it's better that way. It always has. 

Dick has the power to influence you in ways nobody else has ever done. Slowly by slowly, as time goes by, you know he'll chip away at all your foundations. Shake you to your very core.

After all, he _is_ relentless in getting what he wants.

And then what will you be left with? What will he be left with? Someone scarred with an inability to feel -- at least, not enough to match his level. His _expectations_.

You are not enough. You have never been enough.

Not for mother, not for your siblings, and especially not for Dick.

You have to leave, get out of this city for a while. You need time to think about what you want in life other than being a former assassin trying to wipe the blood off your stained hands. You're scared that they'll never become clean. Dick deserves clean, Dick deserves--

_\--Everything._

And you can't give him that.

  
   
**************

"They used to take us to church."

You remember the wooden pews and the smell of dusty bookshelves that would always fill your nose. The statue of virgin mary on the other side of the room, and the warm ray of sunlight that would fall on you from the large church windows, heating your skin from where you were positioned in the room. It was somewhat of a dream. By focusing on that one stature, you could forget about the gashes on your legs, the puddle of blood pooling around your feet, and the bones in your legs screaming at standing for fourteen hours straight.

The sunlight is a luxury you relish. The feeling of unsullied hands is something you swear you'll never cross. 

Jason chokes on gurgled laughter. It's ironic because _since when are assassins religious?_   It quickly fades as he catches your blank expression. "Shit. Sorry, I didn't mean-" It's awkward and gawky -- you can clearly tell that Jason is not one accustomed to apologizing. In fact, he's probably the one who gets apologized to, whether it be from pleading thugs or villains who have earned Red Hood's wrath.

Jason is blazing hot fire. Passionate and blistering, smoldering to the touch.

You hate him.

You envy him.

"No, no," You slightly shake your head, expression warming as your eyes latch onto the horizon. "It's fine. Your laughter is," You swallow. "....nice."

He clears his throat and silence ensues as Jason tries to think of a response. He's not used to getting compliments, or taking them. He's more adept in the language of fists and guns, while Dick has always been smooth with his tongue. Dick, whose charisma has always been something to be desired.

The both of you languish in comfortable silence. You sitting on the outermost ledge of the rooftop, while Jason stands and leans against it.

You open your mouth to find words rushing up your throat. Practiced words you repeated everyday until your voice was hoarse and sore.

Scriptures, Jason thinks to himself --in a language he can't quite decipher-- from what he assumes is the bible. He studies your monotone voice, flat and almost strained. Your eyes are vacant but steady on the horizon, as if the mere sight anchors you to reality. Your body is here, but your mind is somewhere far, far away. Every word is as if it had been engraved and carved onto your very being with careful precision and conditioning. Your mouth speaks words from the past you've never been able to let go. The words are not your own.

Jason is not unused to this type of behavior. Sometimes even he feels detached from reality, surprised that he is alive, breathing and alive, unaware if everything is nothing but a cruel dream. That he is not dead and lying in a cold grave, after all, the joker _did_ beat him to death with a crowbar. 

Sometimes, when you think nobody is looking, Jason sees your eyes go scarily blank.

And he knows Dick sees it too.

A ghost walking amongst the living. Someone that doesn't quite belong in this world. 

It's special kinship, what the two of you have. Not broken, but _survivors._

You snap out of your premeditated haze and finish with a shudder as your shoulders stiffen and Jason can't help but feel as if he's intruding on something intimate. You give him a small, sheepish smile, but it comes out crooked and more like a grimace. "Sorry about that, it... calms me down."

Another silence.

He breaks it. “You're leaving.”

Jason doesn't know how he knows, but he does. Maybe it's intuition.

Maybe it's the fact that this seems too much like a goodbye.

You turn to him, hair ruffled, mask off and eyes eerily compliant. Then you give him a curt nod.

This is a favorite spot of yours, this ledge on the building in one of Gotham's worse districts – but it gives you a perfect view on the sunset, a mixture of orange and red pastels swirling together in a unison of bright colors.

It's so beautiful it makes you sad.  
  
“Just a break.” It's a short answer said in a flat tone, but it's all Jason needs to know for now. You'll go to Greece to one of your safe houses, or maybe to the one in Italy. You've always liked the view in that one. A wanderer. That's what you are, that's what you've always been.

You don't want to leave Dick. You'll miss him.  
  
“You can't just leave him.”

It's obvious who the 'him' in question is. The only one that can make your heart stutter in your chest and the only one whose touch you welcome freely.   
  
You go still at his bluntness. “He'll be-"  
  
He barks out sardonic laughter. “Don't say alright. That's bullshit.”  
  
But behind the persona that is Red Hood, Jason is Jason. And somewhere inside there is a boy yearning for love and acceptance. A boy whose life had been cruelly extinguished at such a young age, soon replaced with jagged edges of glass and brittle anger.  
  
The boy inside that cares about Dick. About all of his brothers.  
  
“He will.” You hesitate. Not sure about how much you want to reveal. It's slightly awkward. “Everybody always is.” You turn your head to meet his gaze evenly. “With or without me. It'll be like I was never here.”  
  
Jason scowls, mouth in a firm straight line. “You think too little of yourself."  
  
You retaliate. “You don't think of yourself at all.” A subtle dig at his reckless and headfirst personality.  
  
Your lips curve into a wryly grin. It's a stalemate, neither one of you moves. This is the most emotion and words he's ever gotten out of you and you're leaving. Jason doesn't even want to imagine the hurt that will carve Dick's face for the next month.

Standing, you walk over to him. Cupping his face, and to his bewilderment, you press a chaste kiss on his forehead. It's warm and a soft feeling of fondness spreads throughout you. Jason, who tries so hard to play the cards he has been dealt in life. Pure steel forged in the inferno, blazing red trails wherever he goes.

 _So full of life._  
  
“Goodbye Jason.”

"You're not replaceable you know." It tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it-- but you're already gone.

**************

It's worse than Jason expected.

There's no hurt, no anger. Just flattened lips of displeasure and an almost determined look that flickers over his face. He's in his Nightwing persona and sweat glints off his face in the light of the streetlamp. 

His relationship with Dick is shaky at best, ~~hell, he wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you~~ but he sees the way Dick stares at you. With so much softness and care that it even he feels something stirring in his chest. Yet there's a certain wariness, as if you might disappear any moment. Ethereal and fleeting, gone before the sun sets.

"Dick-"

"They talked to you before they left."

It's a statement and he resists the urge to wince at his Dick's level tone. Too impassive. Too calm. And a hint of jealousy?

If anything, he's the one who should be jealous of everything Dick is. He isn't used to being the object of jealousy, especially with the original robin, boy wonder, Dick Grayson.

Jason moves to leave, when he hears Dick say it.

"They'll be back." He says with no hint of doubt. 

He hides a smile.


End file.
